Carline: Guests are welcome, anxiety isn't invited

When I was a child, we lived across the street from my mother's parents. Our house was chaotic and not always clean. In contrast, not only was my grandparents' house spotless, there was always a pot of coffee on and food available for guests. And when I say guests, I mean friends and family would show up at their door with suitcases in hand.

I'm still not sure how Grandma managed to thaw out and prepare dinner for 10 in 30 minutes without a microwave.

This gave me rather mixed feelings about hospitality. I love having company and making them feel welcome. However, I am constantly anxious that my home is not welcoming enough.

I want you to come to my house, but I'm afraid I'll never see you again.

This combination of loving and fearing houseguests increases when I have people spending the night. Two years ago, we hosted the family Christmas dinner and my brother-in-law and his family stayed over. It was a lot of fun, and I nearly lost my mind.

My fears are not unfounded. During their Christmas stay, my sister-in-law's allergies were no match for our cat, even though I had vacuumed every floor and washed every drape. The month our niece stayed with us, every meal I prepared was a disaster, and I have no idea why.

The only thing that saved our friends Sara and April when they stayed for a week was they were at Disneyland every day. They avoided the cat and never had to suffer my cooking.

When my son Marcus moved home for the summer, he planned on getting another apartment in Long Beach by September. Unfortunately, he didn't find anything in time, so he is commuting from Placentia.

He came to me with a dilemma. One of his classmates was having a hard time. She has been commuting 50 miles each way in a wreck of a car that she fixes herself. The car died, and she has no way to get to school. They were planning to get an apartment. Yes, as just roommates, in case you were wondering.

Not having the apartment yet put a damper in their plans, so could she come live with us until they found a place?

My hospitality-phobia meter hit the red. I can clean obsessively for weekend guests. I don't know if I can maintain the obsession indefinitely.

After the panic attack subsided, I said yes. (I had already asked my husband. He was fine with it.) Here was a girl who needed help. I've been blessed with a son who actually looks beyond his own comfort to see who needs a hand. How could I refuse?

It would have been nicer if Marcus had given me a week to prepare her room, as opposed to a day. Good thing he has WonderMom, the woman who can empty three drawers, half a closet and an armoire, all while washing and drying the sheets.

Just don't look in the computer room.

Our new family member is blending in well. Perhaps a long-term houseguest will cure my need for a perfect house. If she does, I'd be very thankful. And everyone else would be welcome.

Longtime Placentia resident Gayle Carline tracks those moments that shape her days as a wife, mom, computer wiz and horsewoman. Email her at gaylecarline@sbcglobal.net.

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